British Hamburgers
by NekoChibitalia
Summary: Britain decides to do something sweet for his and America's anniversary...will it backfire?    USxUK Shounen-ai. May continue depending on feedback from reviewers.


_**Ehh...well, this is my first fanfiction request and "USxUK Shonen-ai" were my guidlines. So I assumed not lemon? x3**_

_**Lame title is lame.**_

_**I really don't like the way this turned out, but please review! Please! :3 This is also on my DeviantArt account of the same name. **_

_**Also, I do take fanfiction requests, so if you have one please send me a message!**_

_**This piece is for : Kikulovesmochi and The-Pocket-Llama on DA.**_

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This was a very strange feeling. Caring for someone else like this...I mean, Arthur Kirkland _was _Arthur Kirkland. He had had many relationships in his lifetime, which was very long indeed, but none of them seemed to ever run as deep as this. A one night stand or a couple weeks of pestering was nothing compared to how he felt now. He had always had a tendency to run to the hills when the woman he happened to be with wanted to pursue something more or see him again. Not to say he was rude to her when he broke her heart in half, he simply would give her a million and one excuses why it wouldn't work.

They would always be upset. The classier ones nodding and accepting it as it was while others would grab the closest object and chuck it at his face. The first time this happened he was still mid-pulling on his pants. After that he had learned to get dressed before he broke the bad news. But through the sharp projectiles, screams in protest, and hurt the girls reacted with...he simply could not stand to see a lady cry.

Maybe his fear of actually loving someone came from watching China nearly lose his mind over a few hundred years ago. England was never really close with Yao, but everyone at the Nation's Conference was always up with the gossip on everyone around them. Arthur happened to hear that China had married and fell in love with a mortal woman, something that surprisingly hadn't happened before. This news was met with mixed reviews, many scoffing and talking viciously about the newlyweds behind their backs. Yao didn't care. He wasn't the type to care what others thought. And you could just...tell, when you looked in his exotic face that he was truly happy. A new glow had settled on his cheeks, his coffee colored eyes always aflame with high spirits...but unfortunately that didn't last long.

As Nations, they all lived forever. Or, to be better put, until their country fell. So time was a trivial matter at best. What seemed quick to everyone else was actually the worse and most prolonged suffering to Yao, whom had to watch his dear fragile wife age slowly and painfully, never to look a day older himself. She grew old before his very eyes and died, like all mortals do. Not a new occurence to any one of the Nations, but to Yao it was positively shattering.

The glow was gone, the fire in his eyes extinguished to nothing but a blank and dark state. To be best described, he looked like a zombie. In the meetings he would just stare at the table top, his head bowed and posture slouched. No one commented anymore. No one talked behind his back. You could simply feel the suffering and depression radiate off of him. This was when England had made a silent vow to himself to never go through that. It wasn't worth it, really, what was so special about a woman anyway? Eventually Yao came back around, but was never really the same. Much more defensive and quick to snap, a true spit fire.

And this long winded introduction is what brings us to this special someone mentioned earlier. Alfred...that idiot. To be honest, America was the only person Arthur thought possible to hate as much as he loved. They had been seeing each other officially for about five months now, and it had been rocky to say the least. But none of that mattered any more, England knew he truly would do anything for the man he had practically raised. Bizarre enough as that seems, this relationship was not paternal. The thought of possible-kind-of-not-really-incest was indeed daunting too, but when he saw that stupid American smile again all was well. These troubled thoughts were laid to rest and simply being around him took all of the doubt away.

So, as all English gentlemen do, Arthur decided to do something nice for his boyfriend on their anniversary. After running relentlessly through the list of what Alfred likes, England had settled on making America's favorite food in the entire world...with an English twist. These hamburger's America was always going on about couldn't be that hard to make, right?

Well, so he thought. But it was also a well known fact that Arthur sucked at cooking. So~?

Arthur smiles proudly as he pats his hands on his mint green apron, "See, Captain Hook?" He says, his tone dripping with excitement as he looks askance at the pirate-like figure beside him. "This wasn't that hard. America is sure to love it."

Captain Hook, one of England's many friends that only he could see, glances skeptically at the creation before them. "Is it supposed to be wet?"

Arthur's eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, "The inside is, I think. I followed the recipe to a T. It should be fine."

Captain Hook raises an eyebrow and scoffs humorously, "Well, we'll see what he says," he replies before disappearing back to Neverland. Surely that Peter Pan child was up to no good.

England blows off this little encounter, waving his hand in a dismissive manner before going about cleaning up the kitchen. As he washes the dishes, however, a deep worry worms it's way into his thoughts. What if America didn't like it? What if he was insulted by England's quaint proposition to celebrating their anniversary? Sure, America was notorious for not having very good taste in food, but that didn't give a proper answer to the latter.

Arthur pauses, resting his palms against the edge of the sink and biting his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing once more in thought.

_DING DONG_

England jumps, clutching his chest with his right hand, thankful he hadn't had a heart attack. "C-coming!" he calls, ignoring his apron and going towards the door.

Without permission the door swings open, America smiling broadly and stupidly as he practically tackles his lover to the ground, the pair landing on the hardwood with a bang.

England rubs the back of his head, his thick eyebrows already furrowed he opens his mouth to scold America but is silenced. The big idiot had leaned forward and pressed his slightly chapped lips to Arthur's own. All of the anger washes out of England and he brings his hand to rest at the base of America's neck. "How are you, me duck?"

America sits up a little, "I'm good, man, just excited to see what you have in store for me. You know I hate surprises!" Alfred teases, laughing a little as he gets up off of the ground, reaching for England's hand to assist him as well.

"You don't hate surprises, Alfred, you hate waiting," Arthur laughs in response, straightening his posture.

"Meh...maybe, man, I don't know. But I swear to G if you put in the movie where that girl crawls out of the well, I'll kick your ass," Alfred responds seriously, though he was a hero he hated horror movies.

"Fine, fine, I won't," Arthur begins to reply, cocking an eyebrow in question as America sniffs the air like a dog.

"Man, is that food! Great! I'm starved!" America yells excitedly before dashing off down the hall.

Arthur can't help but facepalm. America was just so...oblivious if that made any sense. He shuts the door, being sure to lock it this time before following America. It was funny how Alfred couldn't find the bathroom in Arthur's house on his own but knew exactly where the kitchen was. This thought makes Arthur smirk a little as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, where America stares at the hamburger creation England had attempted. Suddenly Arthur can't help but feel bashful, his face getting hot.

"Did you make these for me?" America asks, turning his head to the side like some anime character and looking up at England.

"Y-yeah," Arthur replies off-handedly, looking away and crossing his arms, apparently trying to be cool about this or something.

America smiles and picks one of them up, narrowing his blue eyes only a second in scrutiny. He had never seen a hamburger like this before! He takes a bite, chewing a couple seconds before swallowing, a blank look on his face. "Ahaha! Arthur, man, these suck!" Alfred then says cheerily as he sets it back on the plate.

England could physically feel his stomach drop to the floor, his eyes remain averted, though his expression completely falls. "Oh, really...?"

"Yeah, man!" America replies, 'bleh-ing' to fit suit. "It's like you didn't use any grease or chemically enriched ingredients at all!"

England swallows, blinking once before saying, "Oh, silly me, I must have forgot." His mouth felt dry and more than anything he wanted to kill himself right then and there. The embarrassment alone making him want to smash his own skull. This was a dumb idea. What had he been thinking anyway? Of course this would backfire, everyone always told him his cooking sucked! How could he be so stupid as to ignore this fact and do something like this anyway!

"Hey, Britain," America says, trying to catch his attention.

"What is it you stupid prat?"

"Thanks," Alfred says, simply but adorably with a smile.

It was as if his entire mind was cleared of all the negative things it harbored only moments before. "You're an idiot," he scoffs lovingly, shaking his head a little.

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot," America teases before saying, "I know you love me."

England blushes deeply, clearing his throat a little with a haughty shake of the shoulders, "Yes, well," he says crisply, physically feeling his face get hot, "there is no denying that." Once again, trying to play cool.

America stares at him a moment, a content and goofy smile on his face before rounding the island and approaching him, narrowing his eyes in a very coy manner. He slowly brings his hand around Arthur's waist, who blushes even more in response but waits before he reacts, and grabs ahold of his apron tie. He pulls on it to loosen and says, "England," his tone sultry and innocent as his fingertips trace the small of England's back.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" Arthur responds as if America is some sort of a bother, but enjoying this initiative anyway.

"I love you," Alfred says before pressing his lips once more to England's, closing his eyes and bringing his other hand around England's waist. Ahh, this was heaven. Having the boy...no, the man, he loved so much so close and returning his feelings was pure bliss. America smelled of McDonald's and freshly cut grass, and though this would usually be a repulsive combination...it was his favorite smell in the world.

"As I love you," Arthur says, pulling away ever so slightly to give Alfred a true happy smile.

At this point it didn't matter. All of the drama from the past, the war between them years ago, none of it. Now that Arthur was here, with America, the one he truly loved...all was well.


End file.
